


In Dreams, You're The Only Thing I Want To See

by StainedGlassDreams



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Captain America: Civil War, F/M, Spoilers, buckynat - Freeform, winterwidow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-07-11 02:14:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7022422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StainedGlassDreams/pseuds/StainedGlassDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He remembers everything. ...Almost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A swap fic for Laurenkmyers, in exchange for an amazing edit; set in CW, and a slightly alternate ending, or rather, prequel to it :)
> 
> As always, hope you enjoy :)

He swam in and out of consciousness.

In.  
Steve walked past the debris of the HYDRA base, the memory of it when it was still operable stirring in the back of his mind.  
"I can walk." He said.  
"I know."

Brooklyn, trying to swat it away. Didn't need it. Not now.

Nearly blacked out again, going into the elevator.  
Austria, green and blue fielding into his vision. "You could've left without me." He remembers hazily saying. Knows it's the wrong thing but he can't get himself to say the right thing. Too much guilt, too much pain and too many memories starting to float in.  
Barely hears Steve reply, "...Not without you."

The chill from the outside wakes him up, seeing T'Challa, snaps him further.  
"Your high-"  
"I owe you an apology, Captain. You and your friend, both."  
Follows Steve's line of sight as he looked to the right, the Doctor in cuffs and a gun tossed to the right of him.  
Berlin, Austria, Siberia, all obscuring his vision as his arm burned.

"What-"  
"I know it's too much to ask... But we need a place to lay low."  
"You need more than that."

Punk.  
Shakes it off, his head trying to create a smokescreen for the pain.

"-recover. I'll send you the coordinates and join you shortly." Sees T'Challa look to Zemo. "After I drop off the real monster."

Feels T'Challa take his other waist, helping him to the Quinjet.  
Steve pulls a bed out of the wall, monitors popping out slowly from above and alongside it.  
"I've got it." He says quietly, laying down gingerly.

Fades.

"-into the autopilot. No man is invincible, Captain. You deserve a rest."  
"....Thank You. But I'll manage."  
Sees him grip Steve's shoulder lightly, before going out of the jet.

I remember all of them.

"-ng in there."

Everyone. 1946 to 1991 to now.

Feels the Quinjet start up.

I remember all of them.

Odessa coming in, as a warmth suddenly enwraps him.

I remember her.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve opened his eyes.

("Hey.")  
Swore he could make out the outline of Sharon, her hair on one side of her face.  
("Morning.")  
Blinked a few more times, as the blurred figure came more into view.

A nurse, checking his vitals. "Good morning, Captain Rogers. Glad to see you've finally woken."

He checked around the room. The bed was slightly different than the usual hospital beds. The mattress felt more accommodating, and half rings that hovered around the bed, slowly made their way back toward him and receeding into the wall.  
"It might take some getting used to, this technology. We are quite a few years ahead of the curve. Even your allies."

Tried to stomach how that statement was more than likely not true, Zemo's words banging in his head.  
"How long have I been out?"  
"2 days, Captain. Quite frankly, we imagined you to stay asleep longer, with the extent of your injuries." She replied calmly, her Wakandan accent adding to the soothe. "Perforated lung, broken ribs, stomach bleeding, as well as multiple confusions and bruising. The machine you just saw took care of most of that. Bi-hourly healing." She continued to mark off a few things on the tablet.  
His brain was oddly becoming clearer, that lag from the usual slowly fading. 2 days.  
"Where's Bucky?"  
The nurse pushed him softly back down. "Your friend is asleep, Captain. You can see him as soon as the Doctor sees fit. Your stubbornness will do you no good here."

Pressed something on the tablet again, the frosted glass on the left side of his bed, clearing to reveal Bucky's sleeping figure.

"He's been asleep, the same as you have. Your body but healed faster. You have the serum, he has only the basic formula. You both suffered similar injuries, it takes him longer to recover."

He looked over, guilt roiling in his stomach.  
"No one has done anything to him, & we've done everything we can for him. Its just a matter of patience, Captain." She smiled, leaving the room.

Looks over to the window.  
2 days. It seems like the longest time when you think about it. However, he can't understand that today & the remaining 4 were all mashed into a 56 hour period.  
It seemed like some kind of nightmare. The kind you wake up from and see the outrageousness of it.  
Looking over at Bucky, he knows that it's real, the fact his left arm is gone, more like a reserved gut punch. Once again, he let Bucky down. Put him in danger. Hopes he can forgive him.


	3. Chapter 3

He dreams of 1940.

"Come on!" Gina says, running ahead with Dolores.  
Bucky smiles, as he walks with Steve, the wind from the shore hitting them on the boardwalk.  
"Where do you find these dames, Buck?"  
"Only the best for you, pal." He grins as he grips Steve's shoulder.  
"Bucky!" Dolores yells, stopping in front of milk bottle booth, as the lights above the stand dangled beautifully, highlighting her red hair.  
He walks towards her, & suddenly the dream changes, as Gina & Steve fade into the background, and he reaches out to touch Dolores on the small of her back. She turns, and it's Nat-

He sits on a bed, sheets cast aside, with the room in disarray.  
It looks like a motel, blinds drawn and moonlight coming in from the gaps in between.  
"[And where do you think you're going?]"

He knows that voice.

He turns to see, and the room turns into his apartment in Romania, and he sits on the bed the same way.  
There's a scent in the air, like roses, lavender and comfort.  
He turns to the kitchen to see Natasha sitting on the chair. "Hello."

The apartment creaks in the familiar way only he remembers, when the wind outside hits it just right.  
"...Romanoff?"  
There's a slight pause & hurt in her eyes as he says it, his heart knows why but his mind can't get to answer, however much it wants to. "What...what're you doing here?"  
"You've already figured you're dreaming, so you have a decision to make."  
He remembers blurred visions of Siberia, and the days before it. "....What decision?"  
She stands up near him, a longing and truth in her pupils. He wants nothing more than to run his hand through the waves of her hair, and he still can't reach the memory.  
"There's still one piece of the puzzle you...can't, remember yet."  
"....I knew you." And suddenly it all clicks, his mind at the verge of it.  
She nods, smiling.  
"....Natasha, I..."

The boards creaked again.

"I'm going to wake up soon."  
"That's where this decision comes in. You can choose to wake up & forget, or..." She extends her hand in the space between them. "You can choose to remember before you do." She looks down. "Each comes with their own consequences. And this has to be entirely your decision."

He looks at her hand, lost in thought. He's known. He's always known for a while now it's just been buried. Deep, maybe just as much as Fennhoff's words were.  
The creaks echoed again, reminding him of how much time he had.

"What happens if I wake up?"  
"You won't forget. It'll just be out of reach. ...For now."

Like how it has been for 2 years. There's a reason he can't reach it. There has to be.  
There's a consequence in remembering. Memory edging into the gaps, as it becomes another layer of nightmare. But this...He doesn't feel it will.  
Just as much as he doesn't know what the consequence of choice is now.

"Whatever I choose... Can you forgive me?" He asks.  
She smiles again. "Always, James."

There's a consequence in forgetting. But he's so damn tired of forgetting, and he doesn't want to lose this.  
A light envelops them as suddenly, it all becomes clear.  
\-------  
The nurse comes into the room, her pad suddenly blipping a few moments ago as his heart rate had escalated.  
His breathing was regulatory now, though activity in the dreaming and memory part of his brain had grown in activity.  
The bi-hourly healing machine had just finished a few minutes ago, so she couldn't again so soon. Checks his temperature on the pad, as well as putting the back of her hand on his forehead to check for a fever.   
Nothing.  
She checks his statistics again, seeing if she had maybe missed anything. Captain Rogers had woken a day ago, though Mr. Barnes remained asleep.  
This was expected though; the serum in his blood was similiar, but not the same craft, and the extent of his injuries, worse than the Captain.

Nothing.

She sighed, closing the tab as she nodded her head in hope. The man had seen enough horrors, according to his Majesty. She just hoped he saw no more in his mind.  
The nurse left, closing the door behind her softly.

"....Natalia." Bucky whispered in his sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Sharon sat alone on the bench, a hat obscuring most of her direct face, as well as sunglasses.  
A duffel sat beside her, the bench beside it, still empty.

She had risked her job. ....And that was just it. Suspension from the JTTF, though the CIA wanted to giver her a promotion for helping to decipher the clue of Helmut Zemo.  
Her colleagues thought her a fool. A sucker for "America's best science experiment." But she knew the truth.  
And she tries to recite Aunt Peggy's enigmatic, and powerful tones in her heart. "No. You move."  
She did what she believes is right. No matter what those consequences are later... She doesn't regret it.  
Her lips, addtionally, still feel his on them. And maybe it makes her a fool. But then, she's glad to be one.

A figure sits across from her on the bench. "....I'm sorry about the JTTF."  
"Thanks. Ross was an ass anyway. ...My goal is to help people. ..Can't do that if your boss doesn't believe the good guys."  
Sharon turned barely to Natasha, dressed in a simple track suit and jeans. ".....I'm sorry you're back on the run."  
She smiles faintly. "....I'm used to it. Like you said. Better to be fighting for the good guys."  
Sharon nods, as she pushes the duffel toward Nat. "Thankfully, they didn't strip my credentials before I could get this."  
Nat takes it, looking through it.  
"....You sure you know where they went?"  
Nat zips the bag, nodding. "I'm pretty sure. It's just shaking any tails."  
Sharon nods, looking down.  
"...Sharon." Natasha says, looking in her direction. "....I owe you."  
"No. It's the least can do. Just...be safe out there."  
Natasha smiles again. "Pretty sure neither of us has to say that."  
Sharon returns it, as Natasha stands to leave.  
"Nat." Sharon calls out, pausing. "...Tell Steve I said hi."

Knows the smile Natasha gives back is just a portion of what she really wants to show. "You don't even need to ask, Sharon."

Good to know the forest isn't empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the mispells/errors, typed this half asleep following work ❤  
> Hope you're enjoying so far, & TY so much for all the kudos..... :')


	5. Chapter 5

T'Challa sat in Barnes' room, watching him as his vitals remained the same.

"[The mark of a great king is to think with his head. The mark of a great man, is to think with his heart. You need to be both these people, to rule.]"

He made the biggest mistake he's ever made.

The soft beeps continued.

He almost, made the biggest mistake he's ever made.  
Twisted the ring absentmindedly.

He can't... Get the image of Zemo out of his head. How someone could let the darkness twist them so far past their humanity. Where it didn't matter whose lives were taken in the crossfire, just their vengeance guiding them.  
Thought about how close he had gotten to the edge. In his pursuit of peace for his Father, he had forgotten that he was a victim.

Barnes breathed rhythmically.

That the man asleep in front of him, was just as much a victim as he was. And he nearly killed him.

When Rogers came out of the doors with him, he remembers a moment when he was younger, & still learning.  
There were two Wakandan soldiers, brothers; who were both bear the brink of death, but their determination to get the other to safety, drove them to their survival.  
The moment they stepped out of that door, he saw them all over again.

He knew then, that he had a chance to redeem himself. Not everything, but ensured survival.

And after the research he had done into Barnes, his experimentation from HYDRA, brainwashing, torture & foolish courageousness in leaving the world behind to ensure the safety of Captain Rogers...  
He deserved survival.

Barnes stirred, groaning slightly.  
"Welcome back to the land of the living."  
His recognition began to come back slowly, looking to T'Challa, a nurse coming in. And as he continued, he tried to sit himself up.  
"Ah, ah." The nurse said, gently pushing him back down.  
He scanned the room, before looking at his arm. ....What was left of it.  
"It's a nano-cloth. It silences the sensors in your arms, to prevent the pain. And any phantom limb symptoms." T'Challa said.  
He looked at it again, slightly puzzled. "....Thank You." Barnes said quietly. "....Steve-"  
"Captain Rogers will be here shortly. He's been coming in every day since he awoke."  
Barnes took the sentence in. "....How long have I been out?"  
"Five days. Though the doctors wouldn't be surprised if it was longer, with the injuries you sustained." The nurse flicked a few screens on the tablet. "Yours were worse than the Captain's, if that's even possible."  
Barnes looked down, in thought.

"[Is the evaluation done?]"  
"[Just about, your highness. Why?]"  
"[Because I'd like a moment with him before his brother comes.]"  
It seemed Barnes had a generalization of what they had said. So he understood African dialects.  
"[Yes, your highness.]" She turned off the tablet, before exiting the room.  
There was a pause. He had never understood waiting to say what you were going to, as long as it was right. He only allowed this because he wanted him to speak first. To have that choice.  
"....You didn't have to take us in." He finally said.  
"That is where you are wrong."  
Barnes turned to him.  
"My Father was a great man. And an even greater ruler. When he was killed, I could only see my own greed in finding vengeance for him. And revenge for the burden that he was not yet finished teaching me. ...That I missed who else were victims. Including you."  
Barnes turned to look at him.  
"And for that, I apologize."  
Barnes took a moment, before nodding. "...I'm sorry. About your Father."  
"Thank You."

A knock came at the door. "Captain Rogers is here."  
"I will speak again with you later."

Redemption was far. But then again, a good king lives for others. And he would spend the rest of his life, living for the victims in the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank You guys so much for your patience, as well as all the views; it means a huge deal, & I hope you continue to enjoy :)


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky leans against the window, looking out into the sunset.  
There's something about the light here, how it shafts through the fog from the nearby falls. It's peaceful, like everything here. It's safe.  
Continues staring out into the sunset, red as star that used to be on his arm. ....Red as-

Hears Steve come in as he turns to see him, bruises still on his face. Can't talk because he looks worse than Steve most likely. "How was your talk with T'Challa?"  
Steve nods. "Prooductive." He pauses, looking at Bucky. "How about you?" He can hear the tone underneath, the one they always have had since they were kids. 'You're hiding something.'  
"....I just remembered I forgot something." It's the only thing he can think to say, clenching his remaining fist softly.  
"....You can't pin that on yourself." Steve replied.  
Bucky shook his head. "Feels like I can." He sighed, the weight, more than the world.

Steve stood across him, the sunset reflecting on the other wall. "....Do you remember that time the doctor said I wasn't going to make it past 22?"  
Bucky looked away, recalling it. "...It was the only time I ever heard your Mom cuss. He said he didn't understand why you didn't have a wheelchair."  
"Or crutches."  
"Didn't stop you from running the newspaper routes."  
Steve smirked. "I forgot about that."  
"We're both too stubborn." Bucky replied, his mind on the memory of it.  
"...Wonder where I got that from." Steve said, looking at him.  
He looked back at Steve, the reality of everything, the span of 75 years compressed into just a quarter of that.  
Realizes just then that it feels like how this week was. Over half a century of moments, compressed into just a few days.  
Everything that's gotten them here.

Everyone who's gotten him here.

"I never got to say sorry. ....About Peggy." He looked at Steve, seeing him try to hide the hurt that was still raw.  
He nodded, before replying "She talked about you."  
Bucky felt his look become puzzled. He never really got the chance to talk much to her back then, too buried in whatever the hell Zola did, & the effort to hide it all from Steve. ....Puts that away before something else comes back..  
"....Said you were one of the cockiest, smartass & most honorable men she knew. We agreed if there was anyone that could have been 'Captain America', it would have been you."  
The weight of the statement, pushing on him as much as it did lifted.

The doors opened, as a nurse stood in front of them. "Captain, his Highness wishes to see you."  
"I'll be right there." He replied, looking toward her.  
"Quit the mushy crap, go talk to him." He smiled.  
"I'll be back." Steve replied, as he walked out.

Continued to watch the sun set, the colors flowing into each other.  
He didn't deserve this. In the back of his mind, he knows that isn't true.  
The same as he knows that Natalia would forgive him. Even though he couldn't forgive himself for forgetting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!! :)  
> I'm so sorry I haven't updated this; I was stuck ok a block, as well as swamped with work. I care deeply about getting this story/narrative right so I wanted to wait until I could find the right fit to it :)
> 
> As always, Thank You so much for your patience, & even more for all the views.... It made my month.... :')
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!


	7. Chapter 7

She knows rain doesn't hit the same place twice.

The quinjet rumbled softly beneath her, as she steered through the stormy skies.

There are things to take into account; wind velocity, speed, obstacles. Too many variants so it's common sense.  
Lightning however; that was different.

Lightning could strike wherever it wanted, whenever the Earth beneath it permitted.  
And the thing is, the thing people so often forget, is that the bolt doesn't come from the sky. It comes from the ground.

She gripped the wheel, steering it.

It came strike from that same spot once, twice, a hundred times because it's where the electricity arrives from.  
Regardless of why, it's drawn to that spot.

She looked over to the duffel bag, swaying gently from the storm outside.

She looked everywhere for Rogers. Find one, you find the other. But he disappeared. As far as she knew, he left Tony at his mercy and Tony, being the little boy he was, was too filled with shame and resentment to care where he was. Or admit he did care.  
So you look elsewhere. You look in the least expected place.

Flicked the radar to make sure there were no tails.

You look to the ground to find the lightning.

An African dialect came through the radio.  
She replied back her coordinates.

& she's been never given up on finding it again. Even after it hit her in Odessa.

"Ms. Romanoff. I've been waiting for you to arrive."

She just hoped the sky could forgive her for leaving him for so long.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter; along with getting an awful side job, quitting the awful side job, and finding gigs for my real dream job, it's been hard to keep up with everything... I hope I can be more on here now :)
> 
> Also, if I may say a Huge Huge 1000x times Thank You to everyone who has read, left kudos, bookmarked and subscribed to this story; I never, in a million years, dreamed one of my fics would be in the 1k plus reading rank.... I don't know what to say except Thank You so so much.... You guys are incredible & I seriously hope you enjoy :')

Steve and he sit in the room, the silence still ringing.

Bucky sat on the bed, the words tasting like fresh salt, but knowing he had to say them.  
Steve held his hands together, looking at Bucky. "...There's no other alternative?"  
He breathed in, the inhale shaky. "...There is. But...I need to do it this way. They'll be looking around in my head, I...." Subconscious flashes of Berlin came back, pieces he didn't even remember. Lightly gripped his fist. "....I can't risk it. Whatever they put in there..."

The folders that T'Challa had somehow found, laying closed on the nighttable to the side.

"...I need to make sure it's out."  
Steve nodded, looking back at him. "I understand. If this is your decision, I back it."  
"Thank You." He looked down.  
"I'll come by later." Steve said, getting up.  
"Steve." Bucky called, Steve near the door.  
"....I'm sorry again. For everything."  
"You don't ever need to apologize, Buck. You deserve that, more than anyone."

As Steve closed the door, he breathed a little easier. The hardest part of this all, perhaps strangely to others, was telling Steve.  
Steve, the self-sacrificial moron he'd practically raised. Steve, who remained that way even after becoming a guinea pig, and an army dog.  
Steve, who didn't see a fractured, broken mess of a man since his first ship-out, but his old friend.  
That was the hardest part. For his own self, he felt a breath of relief. Acceptance.  
T'Challa had expressed concern at the idea, though not trying to change his mind.

"Our cryostasis chamber is far different from the modern world's. But are you sure this is the path you want to choose?"  
He nodded. "....I need to make sure I can't hurt anyone else, no matter that cost."

There wasn't fear, reluctance. Just....peace. That when he woke up, it would be him. Not HYDRA, not Zola. Just him. ....Whatever was left, anyway.

The sun grew slowly into the horizon, night time here giving day to somewhere else.

And that, was the only thing he was afraid of. The thing about the kid Steve sees from the war... It wasn't ever him. Not really.  
Pretended because Steve never needed to see that. Never needed to know the brother he looked up to, was darkened and broken into pieces.  
He left him in DC because he couldn't even remember what the damn pieces were, what they were capable of.

"Do you want me to tell Captain Rogers how long the stasis might be?"  
".....No."  
"May I ask why?"  
"....Because. It's what you do. ....What I have to do. You take the shit.." Chuckled at the irony of it all. "...and you shield the people you care about, from it."

The last shred of sunlight peered over the canopy of trees.

And now he remembers there was only ever one person that saw him after it all. That saw what was left, and still kissed him like the stars might fall. Taking each other's shit and loving each other despite it.

His only regret, is that he can't see her to tell her this now.


End file.
